Who would have thought it (would be me and you)
by LaceyBird
Summary: One shot. Based mid series, I guess. Enjoy :)


**AN: Just a quick one shot. **

**Please read and review. **

**Lacey.**

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><p><span><strong>Who would have thought it<strong>

**(would be me and you)**

**C**aptain James had always been a bit of a mystery to Molly. So phlegmatic and reserved, he's never been one that's easy to read, to know what he's thinking. But, if nothing else, he's consistent; he's nothing but professional, his enthusiasm towards the task at hand is nothing but admirable – able to bark orders at his platoon, but is just as eager to get stuck in, help out, never takes a step back to avoid getting his hands dirty. Which is why Molly's left feeling no less than perplexed at the sudden game of hot and cold he's decide to start playing with her.

Or mainly just a game of hot, because, confusingly, there is no cold.

She catches him watching her, eyes following every move, from across the camp. And instead of looking away, trying to pretend he wasn't, his eyes lock with hers, and his mouth twitches upwards, gaze doesn't falter until she looks away, or someone else makes a grab for his attention, which she could probably convince herself is just a friend thing, if it wasn't for the way his eyes linger on her when they're together; on her lips as she talks, the top of her head when she's tending to the blisters she's sure should have healed by now.

He touches her more, too. His hand rests on the small of her back as they walk side by side, pressed firmly instead of barely touching like before. He covers her hand with his own when he's thanking her for looking after him, looking after his feet, thumb rubbing circles over her soft skin in an entirely too intimate way.

And if that wasn't enough to rouse Molly's suspicion's that there was something more going on with them, with him, he's started trying to spend more time with her, too.

He hovers. A lot.

He's there when she's trying to set up a med. point in the village, offers his help, is pretty persistent, despite the fact she's been doing the job for the past few months. He lingers when she's trying to tidy the medical tent, when she's restocking her kit, or just when she's trying to work out. All very Captain-y, she tells herself, until he starts to join her on the roof of the shitter after everyone else has turned in for the night, even if it's just to ask her if she's okay, if she needs to talk about the events that may have unravelled the previous day, or if she wants to talk about her family back home because he can tell she's missing them, or just _anything_.

She's not complaining, not really. She's just majorly confused about the whole situation, and with a damn good reason to be. Because it's not just the unnecessary touching, the almost constant presence, the need to know everything that's on her mind; he's doing other silly little things for her too. Such as stealing the last box of cocopops and slipping them into her tent before any of the other soldiers can get their hands on it. Or making her a cup of tea just the way she likes it, first thing in the morning, so she doesn't have to put up with the other 'cockwombles' as soon as she's woken. Excuses her from latrine duty so she can 'restock supplies'.

All the things she'd expect from a guy who's soft on her. Not from her kick-ass, gun wielding, _very off limits_, Commanding Officer.

_Who absolutely does not, and can not, love you._

If it wasn't for the fact that they were in the British Army, that they were serving in Af-bleedin-ghanistan, that there was absolutely zero chance of someone like _him _falling for someone like _her, _she'd seriously start to question his motives, be concerned over his intentions, and probably just be forward and confront him over it. He's probably just feeling guilty over something, she decides, is trying to make up for the first few weeks they'd spent together, when she wasn't Private Molly Dawes, but just the medic scared of blood, the girl holding the whole platoon back. Although, if that was the case, a simple 'I'm sorry' would suffice.

She considers, briefly, trapping him in her tent and just asking him outright, or perhaps just dropping it casually into conversation as she redresses his heels, but then forces that idea out of her head as she sits there, with the rest of her section, in the command tent, listening to the plan for the following day. His eyes skirt over her, just as they do every other soldier in the small space; no crinkled eyes, no mouth twitching as he tries to contain a smile as their eyes lock – just pure, basic professionalism. Maybe the heat was finally getting to her.

So she continues to put up with it without saying anything, leaves him to figure out whatever the hell is going on with him, whilst she tries to act completely normal; only laughs at his really funny jokes, scoffs at the rest. Doesn't try to replace her cockney slang with proper words to make it easier for him to understand. Doesn't flinch away at his touch, doesn't scold him for stepping over that imaginary line, instead just looks at him and smiles.

And whilst she's leaving him to work out whatever it is he's working out, she's trying to keep her feelings in check, too. Forces herself not to read anything into his gestures, or the smiles he reserves only for her, or the way his eyes light up the second they connect with hers. Because yeah, whilst she can admit she has feelings for him, she's not some sad schoolgirl with a silly little crush. She's a grown woman, who can respect boundries; professional and personal.

So she doesn't ask him, doesn't push him into a confession she isn't entirely sure she's ready to hear, regardless of what it may be, doesn't lock him in her tent and demand an admission of what he's doing, if he's even doing it on purpose.

At least, not until they're headed towards the bloodied, white sheet in the middle of the road, the threat of being red misted looming over both of them. Her heart is in her throat, pounding, stomach clenching tight. Not because of the potential bomb, because she could die any second. But because she's finally got the balls up to ask,

"Do you love me?"


End file.
